


You've Got (My) Mail

by notbrianna



Category: Conviction (TV 2016)
Genre: F/F, Fandom Trumps Hate, Pre-Series, mail-room mix-ups
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-18
Updated: 2017-02-18
Packaged: 2018-09-25 07:08:08
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 662
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9808607
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/notbrianna/pseuds/notbrianna
Summary: Naomi gets an envelope addressed to Hayes Morrison, but not THE Hayes Morrison.  Maybe.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [mammothluv](https://archiveofourown.org/users/mammothluv/gifts).



4\. The envelope stood out sharply against her hand: Hayes Morrison, 3132 University of Chicago. The rest of the address was obscured by her thumb, but she didn’t need to see it to know that she, Naomi Golden, had gotten someone else’s mail. And not just anybody’s mail, but the former first daughter’s. Or maybe not; maybe she some other Hayes Morrison’s mail. It’s not like it’s out of the question for someone whose last name was also Morrison to have a child named Hayes at around the same time that former president Morrison did. And it also wouldn’t be out of the question for this other Hayes Morrison to be a student at the University of Chicago. After all, there really isn’t any reason-- outside of the convenience of an audience—why two or more people with the same name can’t exist in more or less the same place at the same time.

“What do you mean you put it in my mailbox?!” Naomi heard a female voice say. “I mean,” a male voice said, “that according our computer you should have your correspondence by now.” Naomi turned the corner where she saw the Hayes Morrison having an argument with someone behind the counter of the mail center. “Do you have any idea how embarrassing it is to tell your grandmother that you didn’t get the card she had sent you?” She asked.

“I thought you said it was from your father.”

“What does it matter?!” Hayes said. “What does it matter if I got a card from my dad or my grandma? The point is, that I was supposed to have to have gotten a card with a check in it by now and I don’t have it.” Naomi, who by this point was standing behind her in line, couldn’t see her face but Naomi gathered that it must have been a doozy since he simply said: “I’ll check in the back,” and high-tailed it to the backroom. “Excuse me,” Naomi heard herself say: “Are you Hayes Morrison--”

“—No autographs—”

“—box 3132?”

“Yeah.” “I…um…I think I got your mail by mistake.” She handed the envelope to Hayes who looked at it from multiple angles, including holding it up to the light before opening it. She pulled out one of those “just because” cards with such force that the alleged check nearly fell out. “Thank you.”

“Oh it’s no big deal,” Naomi waved a hand in the air dismissively.

“No it is a big deal,” Hayes said. “You could have forged my signature, cashed this check, and had a grand old time. Maybe paid something off. But you didn’t.”

“I’ve seen your signature,” Naomi said. “It’s a difficult signature to pull off. And I’m not really sure I could pass for you anyway.”

“No,” Hayes said, looking at her for the first time since this whole thing started. Naomi had never felt so…looked at in her entire life. She found that she liked it when Hayes did it. “I don’t suppose you could.” Just then the guy who worked at the mail center came back to the counter.

“How are we doing?” He asked. He seemed less agitated than he had been when he went into the back.

“Fine, thank you,” Naomi said.

“Lucky for you,” Hayes said, “We managed to solve this for ourselves.”

“That’s good,” the guy said, visibly relieved. Hayes looped an arm through Naomi’s and started to drag her away from the mail center. As she was doing this she asked: “How do you feel about dinner? On me, of course.” “Dinner” involved them nibbling on something inconsequential while Naomi told Hayes about herself and Hayes ran a foot up and down her leg in an apparent attempt to throw her off her groove, which didn’t work. Hayes didn’t seem to mind the apparent snub if the invitation to go to Hayes’s place for dessert was any indication. And yes, “dessert” was a euphemism.


End file.
